Daily Life With a Monster Dad
by Crowscythe
Summary: Australia has it's fair share of monsters as well, such as the legendary Bunyip. Such a beast is known for its terrible might and ferocious behavior, the Bunyip is a creature that is revered for being terrifying and dangerous...I suppose no one bothered to tell little Benjamin that little detail about his adopted father. All original content belong to the respected parties.
1. Chapter 1

Australia.

The Place Down Under.

A continent that is more than well known, yet only a small portion of it's land has been solidly colonized and populated. At least, for humans that is. After the global announcement was made that creatures that had once thought to be figments of pure fantasy and superstition were actually real, it came little surprise that Australia was no exception either. It too had it's fair share of cryptids, monsters, and supernatural entities that had made themselves known to the world at long last. Several nations have already managed to congregate many diplomatic solutions to have these "extraspecies" be assimilated into modern society to create a better civilization, and after a short span of three years, liminals of all shapes and sizes have been successfully integrated as working, cooperative citizens to their respected countries.

However, while there are nations such as Japan or the United States that have managed to make steady progress, there are others that have struggled more with the issue, and it is Australia that has been a prime example of this unfortunate fact. Make no mistake, Australia is not facing a dire calamity, nor is it on the brink of civil war, but it is still a great issue of political debate. Most of the Australian extraspecies have resided quietly in the wild regions known as the Outback, building their own communities, living their own cultures, and this has been the case for centuries. So, it was inevitable that negotiations over the distribution of land would be a primary topic amongst the elected representatives and official politicians.

Yet this is not the story that you will be reading, but rather the story of a father, and his son.

A fair distance from the capital city of Sydney, resides a human made national park that protects the borders of the Mares Forrest, it is here where the Wombeyan Caves can be explored, and the Wollondilly River can be found. It is a quiet reserve, where only small woodland creatures reside, however, that was the case three years ago. Agents of the M.O.N. division have admitted to the public that a particular liminal lives in these woods, an extraspecies that has fought tooth and nail to retain rightful ownership of his land. Ultimately, the reserve is still operated as it always has, but has agreed to carry a very strict policy; if tourists are ever to encounter this creature, they are firmly abided to, under any circumstance, **not disturb him**.

However, something occurred recently, something that is only under the knowledge of the few park rangers and M.O.N. agents that have happened to notice on occasion.

It was the peak of summer, and it was high noon, as the sun scaled its highest point in the sky, and where it was at it's hottest. The humid, dry air coaxed the many variety of insects and toads to flourish and bring the forest to life with thousands of chirps, croaks, and other feral noises. Meanwhile, sitting at the shore of a small, murky pond, was a human boy, barely six years old, but full of wonder and curiosity. He was small, thin, but seemed healthy enough to the eye. His soft cheeks smeared with dirt, his fuzzy blond hair tickled his ears. His eyes were a brilliant jade green, so green it would make a crocodile blush, and had decently tanned Caucasian skin, hinting strongly that he spends a lot of time outside. He wore plain tan shorts, muddy leather boots, and a simple black tee with the letters ACDC printed across his chest in metallic illustration.

But what could a child such as this one be doing all the way out here, far from the nearest human settlement, alone in the wilderness?

Well, actually, he _wasn't_ alone.

Just a few feet away, skulking in the shrubbery, watching the boy with bestial eyes that gleamed like liquid silver, was a beast of bizarre and terrifying appearance. The creature was large, with bulking shoulders ending in massive arms that could bench press a vehicle. It's face was like that of an angry bull dog, with a flat snout, and a massively scrunched brow, but also had a large under bite between a pair of deadly tusks, exposing a lower set of gnashing teeth capable of tearing flesh and crushing bone. Its legs were just as meaty, with large, stumpy feet that were as thick as tree trunks. Extending from its rear was a long, hulking tail that looked crocodilian, in fact, most of it's body was covered in hard, leathery, muddy green scales from head to toe, but what made it strange was that long, thick strands of hair covered portions of it's body as well, tufts of fur patted on it's shoulders, forearms, and chest. Like an obscene conglomeration of several animals into one abominable monstrosity.

Yet it was decent enough to sport a pair of ridiculously large tattered jeans and a belt to match. But that did not matter, what did, was that it had its gaze locked on this child.

The boy however, could not be bothered to sense any danger, for he was too preoccupied to watch for frogs and capture them as potential pets, or perhaps even for lunch. He was feeling a bit hungry.

The beast slowly approached the distracted child, crawling on all fours with its belly close to the ground. as it neared towards its prey, the creature gradually opened it's powerful jaws, it reared itself up and arched over the unwary child, its hulking arms spreading out, ready to pounce on him and deliver the striking blow.

The child, still ignorant of the encroaching mass behind him, does eventually notice that the ground before him seemed darker now than a moment ago. He is compelled to turn around, but before he even could attempt it, he feels his entire body being plucked from the mud, ensnared by giant, leathery claws. As he is hoisted into the air, he screams in panic...

But then starts to laugh hysterically as the tips of the claws start to gently dig into his sides tickling him relentlessly.

Following in his laughter was accompanied by the beast's own thundering mirth as it bellows playfully, "Lookeh wha' I snatched up! I tasteh lil boi! I'm gonna gobble yoo up good, I will! OMNOMNOMNOM!"

The boy cries out more, pleading between giggles, "No no no! I'm too dirty and icky!"

The beast lets out another haughty laugh, "Yer righ' bout tha' one, lil skippah!" His voice was deep, masculine, gruff, yet warm. There was both a soft and boisterous tone in his words, but he decided to be a bit more stern as he eased off his barrage of tickles and set the child on his hunky shoulder as he added, "I told ya to wai' foive minutes, Benneh."

"Oh..." The boy pretended to be surprised, "I thought you said you'd _catch up_ in five minutes."

"Benjamin." The beast scolded him softly.

"Sorry, Dad." The boy apologizes genuinely before changing the subject as he leans over on the beast's thick tusk leisurely, "So what was it you wanted to do today?" He asks curiously.

"Well, I was think'n we could go to... _the market_ today?" He suggested invitingly, knowing exactly how the child would react.

And to his amusement, the boy's face lit up with excitement as Ben's jaw dropped before responding eagerly, "We're gonna go to the caves!?"

"Only if ya promise ta be on ya bist behavieh." The beast smirks at him.

"Promisepromisepromise _promise!"_ The boy exclaims, practically shaking with joy as he climbs over to saddle on the back of the liminal's thick neck as he urges on impatiently, "Can we go now? Can we!?"

The fatherly beast chuckles softly, "Yes yes, jus' keep ya pants on, ya crazeh lil devil, bu' firs' yer in despera' need fo' a bath."

Almost as immediate as his spontaneous excitement, it melted faster than ice cream on pavement into a disdainful frown as he heard that despicable four letter word.

"Awww, but Daaaaaaaad~!" He whined pleadingly.

"Butts ah fo' sitt'n, Benneh, and yours is gonna be in the tub befo' we head ou'" The liminal replies, still retaining his amused grin as he begins to saunter back to their home through the vast trees to prepare for their trip to this mentioned market. All the while Benjamin groaning about the inevitable wash he will so intolerably undertake before doing so.

 **Note** : This story will not be updated as consistently as Daily Life With Monster Roommates or Life of a Hunter. This story was created primarily because I felt the need to contribute something to the universe of Daily Life With a Monster that was not harem themed or romantically related.I appreciate any and all support or criticism, and that I humbly hope you enjoy this read.

With humble regards and sincere gratitude,

-Crowscythe


	2. Chapter 2

The Wombeyan caves is regarded as a popular tourist spot, it's ancient rock formations and deep canal ways are tantalizing to the common outsiders that come and go to marvel at their pristine magnificence. Yet despite the visitation from an abundance of curious travelers, no foreign influence has yet to discover the hidden occupation simply regarded as _The Market_. The only few exceptions would be a handful of M.O.N. representatives, but they have promised to respectfully ignore the existence of such a place until a more appropriate time, or so it is said on paper anyway.

The reason for this secrecy is not entirely understood, perhaps it is simply a matter of preservation, as most humans have had a nasty habit of forcing their agenda onto others whether they realize it or not. Another reason could be simply that the market caters to species that are still not ready to introduce themselves to the rest of humanity as well as other sentient species that share the planet. Or, it may have something regarding the hidden treasures that are kept and hidden within this Market that are guarded with absolute priority.

Whatever the reason might be, it is irrelevant to Ben and his father's reasons for journeying to this place.

The boy stayed close to his parent's side, as the creature hunched his body to avoid the large stalactites that hung over their heads like giant teeth, holding a large lantern to guide their way through the darkness. To a newcomer, the deep caves such as these would have been considered daunting, but not for this boy. Instead of fear, he felt nothing but excitement, so much so he strained to keep himself from bouncing off the stone walls. This was his third time visiting The Market, as far as his memory says anyway, but every time he had was like an adventure.

For him a trip to The Market was the same as a trip to the carnival.

The child swung his arms broadly with the momentum of his wide steps, glancing and looking at all grand rock formations and deep tunnels, occasionally humming loudly to hear the sound of his echo reverberate through out the caves.

"Hush, lil skippah." The bestial father calmed the boy with a gentle tone and soft expression, "We don' wan' any tourists foll'n us this deep."

"Sorry." The child apologizes with a mischievous snicker, he then asked curiously, "How much further Dad?"

"No' far now, Benneh. We onleh need ta.. Ah! Here we ah." The beast turns around the corner of a stalagmite that glittered slightly brighter than the others, leading him to a small pool of shallow cave water, behind it was a peculiarly smooth flat wall. The hulking creature knelt down to his son's side, as he gestured his hand toward the pull as an offering to the child. The boy seemed confused and looked at his father curiously.

"Well, go on then." The beast encourages him on suggestively.

As the boy begins to realize, his eyes widen and says with glee, "I get to do it this time?"

The beast calms him down once more with a playful shush, chuckling softly at the boy's excitement, "Yer a big boy now, Skippah. Now go see if ye remembah."

Little Benjamin looks back at the pull of murky water new found determination as he runs over to the edge of the water and prepares. He begins by lowering himself down, sitting on his bare knees as he reaches out toward the dark water with his tiny finger. He then proceeds to draw four circles that intertwine with each other, then draws a new, larger circle surrounding the smaller ones. The moment he finishes, the ripples in the water suddenly freeze, and the shapes he drew suddenly began to glow and show their formation, slowly spinning faster and faster like a cog in a machine. As it continued to spin, the wall before them suddenly groaned and cracked softly as it began to shift, opening up like a great beast's maw to reveal a new cave with a strong light illuminating at the end.

The child, proud of his success walks over to his father where he raised his hand out to him to receive his well disserved high-five as the child's soft, petite hand slaps harmlessly against his leathery palm. The child then scampers towards the tunnel as he calls back to his parent, "Com'on Dad let's go lets go!"

"Easy lil skippah! I'm no' as compact as ye." He laughs softly as he squeezes through the last of the stalagmites to follow after him.

The throat of the tunnel seemed to expand and widen as the two traveled deeper inward, following the ember light that grows brighter with each step. Reaching the end, they enter into a great cavern of numerous booths and shopping centers selling a vast variety of things. The choked roads and narrows streets were filled with the sounds of busy life and extreme activity, it's pedestrians and residence were made up of liminals from every corner of life, both native and foreign. The place was practically a city; a rocky foundation built upon of stone-carved structures, complex piping, and cannibalized housing made of scrap metal and other discarded material that had been salvaged from the outside world.

Massive Stalactites that had formed as natural, gargantuan pillars, were strewn across the great marketplace with large shards of glowing stones embedded in them, shining brilliantly like stars in the earth, the source of the cavern's natural lighting.

This was a place that had existed long before Man had stepped onto this continent, and it has remained a secret even after, except for little Benjamin of course, the only human to have ever seen such a wondrous realm. Despite being here before, his still-growing mind absorbed every noise, smell, and sight as though it were his first time all over again. Fortunately he did not stray too far despite his overwhelming urge to run free and explore, as he often did in any other occasion, as his surrogate parent managed to catch up to him, snatching him up with playful claws and then sitting him on his thick hunching shoulders.

"Right then, so what are we shopping for?" The child inquires curiously.

"Firs' things firs', we need ta give an ol' friend a visi'."

"Who's that?"

"Aunteh Beatriz."

"...Oh...good..." The boy's excitement suddenly welted at the mention of that dreaded name, slouching over the back of his father's neck in sour displeasure

"Aw don' you start pout'n now, lil Skippah." His father responded with a hint of authority.

"But she's so _weird_ Dad!" Benjamin tried to rebuttal.

"And wha' makes her so 'weird' then, eh?" He challenges the boy's claim as he continues to wander through the sea of passing shoppers.

"Well...she...she just _is_!"

"It's not becoz she loikes giv'n ye kisses, is it?"

The child's face immediately drowned in a thick shade of red, "N-NO! I mean! YEAH! But...HUSH UP!"

The beast let out a throaty laugh at his son's bashful expense. Perhaps now the boy will learn to be more mindful of his words...but that is still very unlikely.

However, the mirthful teasing did not last very long.

As the beast made a turn at a corner, he spotted a trio of very unfavorable characters loitering outside of a butcher's deli a few dozen feet away. They dressed as though they have been in numerous brawls, wearing torn shorts and tattered tank-tops or musty vests. One of them, wearing a warn, blood red bandana over his flat leathery cranium, bared a terrible scar across his bicep, the old wound still retaining a shade of stale pink between the thickening layers of scales. Another one, whom was currently occupied with his tiny lighter, had multiple belts which were too small to ever hope to wrap around his bloated waste, instead he warn them tightly around his forearms and wrists like straps. Then there was the third, the biggest one of the three, had an eye that was a different color from the other. Instead of a sickly yellow tinge, it was a brilliant, pure blue color, the kind of blue one would see on a clear sky on a hot summer day. Despite such a simple and beautiful color, it remained inside the skull of a monstrous creature.

They were all feral-looking, all cold-blooded.

Long, powerful jaws with jagged teeth, skin as thick as leather, heavy tails that could crush bone, and webbed claws perfect for tearing flesh.

Sobeks.

Crocodiles that could walk like men, their namesake derivative of the Egyptian god of an ancient era long since past. But it can be assured with great confidence that this particular group of thuggish leather-backs are anything _but_ divine, and no one knew this better than the boy's father. Unbeknownst to the child, noticing his father looking at the trio specifically, he saw them as hardly anything to feel anxious towards. In the little boy's eyes, it was only his father that was the toughest and scariest of them all.

There was a time he could still recall where a pack of wild dingoes tried to take him as a midnight snack, instead it was the biggest mistake those savage canines ever made when his father rushed to the rescue.

Instead of being traumatized he regards such a memory as fabled epic, to witness his father display his might and ferocity as he made the desert dogs run back into the darkness of the night with their tails between their legs. It was that night he learned just how strong his father was...that as well as never sneaking out at night ever again, not if it means never expecting breakfast again.

Admittedly, while these brutes looked far more dangerous than a hungry pack of wild dogs, Benjamin was confident in his little heart that his father was and is still the renowned king of the outback.

So it was all the more perplexing for the child when his father suddenly altered his course and followed a separate street that lead away from the savage crocs.

The boy was compelled to ask why, but before he could, his father spoke first, almost as if he could sense his son's puzzlement and said in a tone that was as firm as stone, "Stay clare of tha' lot. Ye ondastond?"

The boy wanted to rebuttal and ask why, but the tone his father used was all too familiar to him. It was a rare voice, but he knew that when his father spoke to him like that, it meant certain consequences if he failed to heed it. For now, he simply acknowledged and pried no more on the matter. Instead he distracted himself from the passing sights as his father continued to carry him through the sea of liminal merchants and wanderers. Watching them sell, trade, eat, and drink all kinds of odd and fascinating things that he yearned to explore and experience once their business with Beatriz was done.

It is shame that that notion for poor little Benjamin was easier said than done. Upon arriving at the spot, they stood in front of one particular booth, one that had a grand tarp shrouding over itself like a musty tent, under it contained wears and goods of alien nature. Trinkets and items from distant places of the globe had found their way in this menagerie of foreign treasures, some of which at one point even resided in Australia as well.

Before presuming to enter, the boy's father, not seeing her yet, called out affably, "'Triz! Stop fiddl'n in yor belfreh and welcome us!"

"Yes, _yes_ , like I have not heard _dat_ one before!" a feminine, Brazilian voice retorts just as cordial before making her way to the front of her booth. Stepping out from under her tent of wonders was a liminal whose body proportions shared much associations with bats. Long gangly arms that made up as her wings, a thin body frame, nimble hind legs, large pointed ears, and a mouth full of serrated fangs.

These were the features that belonged to a rare extraspecies.

Death Bats as they are refered to in certain regions of their native home of South America.

Nevertheless, her frightful features and terrible namesake were balanced by her choice of dress and appearance.

The locks of her raven black hair were decorated in a intricate set of knots and overlapping strains as dark precious stones pierced the outer rims of her ear lobes. The flesh of her face and arms were drawn tattoos symmetrical boxy patterns retaining a tribal air to her presence. Covering her chest and groan was a sleeveless tunic and a pair of hiking shorts that seemed rugged and worn. Even if that was not enough to distract from the nightmare-inducing chiropteran attributes, it did not matter for young Benjamin, for he was dreading something far worse from this hellish creature called Beatriz. He instinctually clenched to the back of his father's neck like a koala to a tree as he stared down at the female liminal as she looked back up at him and his father curled a gleeful grin that showed off all her gleaming white teeth.

She gasps with astonishment before saying with sincere adoration, "My little filhote has come ta visit his favorite aunt~! Oh, and hello Benjamin." She then lets out a howl of laughter, mirthful at her own definition of witty humor. When she calms back down she greets the two properly.

"Hello, hello! It is so good ta see you two again afta so long. How have you two been?"

"Eh, no' much ta repor' abou'." The father began to reply as he gently removed Benjamin from his shoulders and set him to the ground, whom was not pleased at all by that decision, "Jus' do'n the bes' I can ta make sure this lil one stays oud'v trouble."

The bat makes a soft giggle in response before adding, hunching over and looking at Ben as she adds, "Well, it looks like you have done a good job so far. He still has all his bits attached. What do _you_ say, Benny, have you been staying out of trouble like your papa's asked?"

The boy didn't say a word, only to make a brief nod.

But Triz only narrowed her gaze at him as her ever smiling grin stretched even further as she said, "You are _lying_ , you little devil."

The boy's eyes widened, shaking his head now, finally speaking to defend his claim, "N-No! I'm not lying! Cross my heart and hope to die!"

"Well..."His father chimed in casually from the side, "Ya _did_ jus' say a few minutes ago tha' Aunteh Triz was _weird_...Someth'n abou' no' lik'n yor _kisses_."

Benjamin looked up at his smirking father with such betrayal and shock. How could he sell his own _son_ out like this?

"Ohhh, so you do not like my smooches do you?" Triz says as she looks back at the boy, a hungry glint in her crimson eyes.

The boy could feel his skin crawl as he drowns in the pools of red stared back at him. He could see it, the impeding fate that loomed over him. In a last desperate moment for salvation, he tells his body to turn and run. But before the information could even reach his legs, Triz snatched him up with her thumbs, the only real opposable digits at her disposal, clenching Benjamin around his waste and hoisted him off the ground. All the boy could do now was watch the dreaded bat's horrible teeth rapidly come at him, and close his eyes as he embraces it.

With absolute disgust coursing through him, the boy's pudgy cheek felt the full slimy suction of his aunts lips, hearing the maternal humming reverberating from her nostrils as drew out the kiss longer and longer.

The boy cries out in utter revulsion and agonizing embarrassment as he remained trapped in her unbreakable clutches.

Completely defeated, his body gave no struggle or resistance. He only prayed that it will end as soon as possible.

Beatriz continued to giggle and hum teasingly as the onslaught of affectionate kisses seemed ceaseless. But, as sudden as it had happened, she finally finished her fill of torture and removed her mouth from the child's face. She still held the child though, clutching him closely in her overly devoted embrace as she said with tender musing, "My goodness, look how big you have gotten! You feel so much heavier than before. And look how long your hair has grown out!"

She giggles more with sadistic care, stroking the strands of golden hair that swathed over his head with her thumb claw. In one brush during her unnecessary pampering she noticed the scar that still lingered in his scalp.

Seeing it, though be it for a moment, conjured a memory that she would rather have forgotten if she were capable. Alas, no matter how bleak that day was for her, her friend, and especially for little Benjamin, this scar remained as proof of the boy's life.

Realizing that the child had suffered enough, she gingerly set the distressed Benjamin back on his feet then clasped his soft cheek as best she could with her folded wing and with sincere compassion.

She then said as she made a warm laugh, "Alright, alright, you have endured enough. Come, come, you two! I'll show you my latest treasures as we catch up on things." She stops herself to turn to the father and mention, "Oh, and watch your head, Borl, I don't want your tusks getting caught in the tarp again."


End file.
